


Find and Replace, One for Another

by GomorrahHillsides (Within_N_Without)



Series: Autocorrect [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Jobs, Light D/s, M/M, Microchip Implants, Pointed Discussions, Shelburne - Freeform, Thing 3, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 20:35:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12992031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Within_N_Without/pseuds/GomorrahHillsides
Summary: It may be selfish, but Danny's not willing to let Wo Fat target Steve a second time. He has one chance to repaint the target on somebody else. So, who does he choose?And what will Steve do when he finds out?





	Find and Replace, One for Another

**Author's Note:**

> * Disclaimer - I own nothing * 
> 
> For anyone who's taken the time to leave comments, a million times, thank you! It means a lot to me ^_^ 
> 
> As for this chapter, I'm not terribly satisfied with it. Although, I wonder if I don't always feel that way. It's as if the longer I work on something, the more I second guess the quality. In any case, I wanted to get this out because I kind of like the next part I've got planned. Rather than torturing myself over this part, nitpicking what I can do to make it better, I'm going to say c'est la vie, and continue. 
> 
> Story So Far:  
> -Danny told Steve about the time travel  
> -Danny let his brother get arrested  
> -Danny and Steve started a (so far) PG relationship  
> -Jenna has arrived  
> -Wo Fat has been captured 
> 
> Episode Reference:  
> S1E20 - petroglyph episode where they find a body on their hike

"I know about Shelburne. And I know where she lives."

"McGarrett told you," Wo Fat guesses.

"Actually,  _I_ haven't told  _him_ yet. He's never even heard of Shelburne," Danny says. He keeps his body still, face carefully neutral. It feels like he's trapped in a shark tank. 

Once upon a time, this man had been the cause of so much pain and they'd spent so much time undoing his machinations that a part of Danny is waiting for him to disappear, escape through the vents like smoke. 

Wo Fat's unimpressed. "How is it that you have come to know more about Shelburne than the man whose life has been so directly affected by her?"

Danny cocks an eyebrow. "Are we talking around her because you're testing me, or are you hoping I'll give something away?"

Wo Fat's smile implies a lot, but he doesn't offer an answer.

"You don't want to talk? Fine. But, we need to get a few things sorted," Danny cracks his knuckles and gives Wo Fat his brightest grin, because he needs to come off as an overconfident Jersey asshole cop. Wo Fat has to believe everything Danny tells him, because Danny doesn't want to do it again – walking in on a tortured and bloody Steve, be it in North Korea or at a dry-cleaning facility in Hawaii. 

He needs Steve to become an afterthought to Wo Fat. 

All that anger, obsession, curiosity – Danny intends to turn it on himself. For all that Wo Fat might hate Steve – for the sins of his mother, or maybe because he was the son Doris replaced Wo Fat with – the man's first priority is information. 

So, with a sunny smile, Danny starts to rewrite history. 

"It's cute that you think McGarrett's connected all the pieces. When do you think he would've had the time? Between Five-0, his monthly training for the Navy reserves, the time he spent surfing, hosting barbeques, and sitting at attention in meetings and get togethers that the Governor ordered him to, he'd barely had a spare moment to look through the tool box before it was stolen from him. 

"Me, on the other hand, I knew John McGarrett for a while before you had Hesse kill him. In fact, I got the chance to actually hear all the little things he was investigating. He walked me through the clues he'd collected, the conspiracies he was looking into, explained to me all the theories he had about this super powerful crime boss named Wo Fat, while I indulged the old man who'd worn the uniform a few hours every week, for several weeks." 

He lets the foundation settle before he starts to build on it, watching Wo Fat carefully to verify when he's finished processing this revised history, after probably cross-referencing it against what he knows about Danny. 

"Steve's been busy. Me, on the other hand, I've been bored out of my mind on this island. Sure, things are better now, but before Five-0? With insomnia and drunken yelling through thin walls keeping me up, with no friends and no family to visit, and no interest in wasting time on the burning sun, itchy sand, and shark-infested ocean waters that pass for paradise in most people's minds, I maybe did a little more indulging than I should have with Papa McGarrett's tool box. A lot more."

Wo Fat's still unimpressed. "That's a lot of words to say you don't know anything." 

If Wo Fat were the type of man who did eye rolls, he'd be rolling them so far right now. Instead, his creepy, indulgent, "you're such a simpleton"  **Smile** is still firmly affixed to his face. 

So, Danny rattles off the things he's pretty sure are safe to mention, because, once upon a time, Wo Fat had either been involved or he'd been the original source of the information.

"You're in cahoots with the Governor."

 **Smile** is placid. Like a lake in an undisturbed valley, far from human interference.  

"Shelburne killed your mother. Then spent some time  _playing_ mother to you, until she got recalled." 

 **Smile** is a little bit tense at the corners. Like a ripple on the surface of that lake.

"Your father's still alive." 

 **Smile** is a little straighter, lips thin. Like a frail sheet of ice over that lake. 

"You're looking for the location where the US government is keeping him." 

 **Smile** is more bared teeth than anything. The ice breaks. "How do you know all this?" Wo Fat seethes, straining against the handcuffs keeping him shackled to the bolted-down chair. 

It's a little bit easier to blast a sunny smile in the face of Wo Fat's frustration. Danny shrugs. "Who can say?" He singsongs in imitation of what Wo Fat had said at the restaurant about Jenna Kaye. But Wo Fat's still too clever by half. 

He doesn't immediately take the bait, shift his sights to Danny. His next question confirms it. 

With suspicion in his eyes, he asks, "Why are you telling me all this?" 

If this were a movie, Danny would laugh like a bond villain and it would be all the explanation required. But, in real life, people don't just go around gloating. Or, at least, smart people don't. 

This next part is going to hurt. 

Danny had anticipated this question and had spent considerable effort trying to think of reasons Wo Fat would believe for Danny to approach him like this. Somehow, he doubts that Wo Fat would accept  _"Steve actually, honestly, absolutely doesn't know anything about Shelburne and cannot help you no matter how much you torture him, but I've got all this information so, if you want to torture someone, take your best shot at me. And make sure to do it personally, so I can shoot you in the face without risk of jailtime."_  

There are no cameras in this dungeon-like interrogation room. So, at least, there's no one around to hear Danny when he says, "You've looked into me right? Seen my financials? You know, it's not easy being a cop. Every day I risk my life, and yet I'm earning a pittance compared to the big wigs who run around shaking hands and making deals at fancy cocktail parties. My apartment is shit. I barely have enough to scrape together once a year to visit my folks. I scrimp and save and  _still_ I'm living paycheck to paycheck. You want to know why I'm telling you this and not McGarrett? Smart guy like you, I'm thinking you can guess." 

The rant, for the most part, rings true in Wo Fat's ears. And, honestly, most of it  _is_ true. He's a little bitter about the state of the world, both now and in the future. The police used to be middle class. Now, most of the guys in HPD are working second jobs. Kono's okay because of her savings back when she was a pro-athlete. Chin earns money on the internet, through investments and trading stocks. Steve's still getting base pay from the Navy for being in the reserves and keeping up with training or special assignments. And Danny...he's a little distracted by the time travel and solving the problems of distant tomorrows to be worried about whether he'll make rent next month. After all, he can always sleep in his car or at the office.   

But Wo Fat's a crime boss with a natural suspicion towards law enforcement. A rant is not enough to convince him. "Your story is plausible. However, the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. And you, Detective Williams, have a clean record."

Fuck, this is not something he's practiced for. 

But, Danny's pretty sure his poker face doesn't fail him.  And talking off the cuff is one of his specialties. "Clean record?" He scoffs. "Why, thank you. It took some handiwork to keep it that way. For instance, my old partner, Peterson? I put him behind bars for being a dirty cop, because he wasn't careful enough. He would've gotten caught eventually. And, since he was already going down, I took any and all evidence of wrongdoing and pinned his name to it. If my ex hadn't dragged me to Hawaii, I could be retired, living off the money that's now stuck in a duffel bag, buried in a Jersey graveyard."

Wo Fat is studying Danny, dissecting him with his eyes. 

His gaze is unnerving enough to send chills up Danny's spine. To keep up the façade, Danny takes himself back to Columbia. He remembers the weight of the gun in his hand, the cold burn of hatred and pain in his chest as he'd pointed it at Reyes, the echo of a gunshot as the life drained out of the man who'd murdered his brother. 

Right after it happened, Danny had felt torn apart. He'd guaranteed it by making Reyes look at him in that final moment. He'd wanted to cement the memory of cold death, so that he'd never be able to lie to himself or forget what he'd done. But, this is Danny's do-over. Reyes is still alive right now. So, he allows himself to feel a modicum of satisfaction at the idea that, once upon a time, he'd taken a life for a life. 

Whatever Wo Fat sees on his face in that moment is enough to convince him. "How much?" He asks. 

Danny knows what he wants, but he doesn't know how to get it. If there was any hope that Wo Fat would stay behind bars...but the fucker once got out of a supermax prison. So, Danny has to assume he'll get out again. 

If he gives Wo Fat the information he wants, there's no guarantee that he won't kill Doris or go after Steve. Also, Danny's pretty sure setting an international boogeyman on the trail of Steve's mother is somewhere in the Unforgiveable category. As much as he might consider Doris McGarrett a selfish, manipulative human being, Danny still hopes she can be the kind of mother Steve deserves, even if it's only part-time, between her stupid missions. That she drags Steve along to. Fuck. 

Anyways, it's not an option. 

So, his choices are either: refuse to give Wo Fat the information, or give him false information. Having already painted himself the color of a corrupt cop, the first option is out. He'll have to hope Wo Fat comes after him with manpower – people he can talk to, negotiate with, and bluff – rather than fancy gizmos and explosives the likes of which almost took out Jenna tonight. But, just in case, he'll be programming bomb squad onto his speed dial and maybe roping in Toast for more frequent checks of their electronics.

With a ponderous hum, Danny says, "For a reunion with both your father and mother? Ten million. Only offer." 

Wo Fat's creepy smile has an edge to it, but his soft-spoken voice almost sounds pleasant as he says, "My associates will contact you for the exchange." 

"Great," Danny says, his own voice convincingly chipper. Hopefully, he sounds like a man who's about to make bank. "Pleasure doing business with you."  

Upstairs, the team is celebrating in the conference room, just as Steve promised. 

As soon as Danny walks in, Kono pops up at his elbow and says, "Hey, Danny, Bossman's looking for you."

HQ is not that big. 

"Looking for me where?" He asks, stomach already starting to twist. 

He'd been careful in timing his descent down to Wo Fat's cell. Steve had been out, reporting the arrest to Jameson. Jenna had been pacing in Steve's office, on the phone with CIA. The rest of the team had been doing paperwork while the details were still fresh in their minds. 

No one had been watching as he'd slipped away. 

Kono shrugs. "Not here." 

"And how long ago was this?" 

"Dunno. Fifteen minutes?"

"Okay, thanks," Danny waves as he walks back out of the office, mentally running through the lines he'd fed Wo Fat, trying to remember all that he'd said, guessing at what the last ten minutes or so of that conversation had been. 

But if Steve had heard it, then he'd have confronted him right outside the interrogation room. Danny's sure he hadn't mentioned that Shelburne was Doris McGarrett's codename. So, what...oh, no, no, no... _fucking_ SuperSEAL. 

Danny starts to run, practically tripping down the wide, fancy staircase that leads to the ground floor. 

Of all the things he'd said to Wo Fat, most details weren't enough to take action on. Because, as far as Steve knows, why should he care about Wo Fat's life story?

Except, Danny had mentioned the governor. And he distinctly remembers Steve McGarrett breaking into said governor's mansion. 

That goddamn, fucking lunatic –

Danny runs out the glass doors, headed for the Camero or Steve's truck, whichever's still in the lot. The first car he spots is the truck. By process of elimination, Steve took the Camero. Maybe it had been a mistake to exchange keys with SuperSEAL, but the man had made a convincing argument about dangerous situations and the buddy system. 

In any case, they come in handy now as Danny unlocks Steve's truck from a distance and tries to hop in (a literal hop, because Steve's ego needs a tall monster of a car in order to fit).

Both him and Steve startle when he ends up in Steve's lap.

Wide-eyed, Steve stares at a breathless Danny. "Um...I'm on a call, buddy. Maybe we can do this later?" He says, looking down pointedly at their suggestive position. 

Danny cuffs him upside the head, muttering, "You're an idiot," and climbs back out of the truck. 

A hand catches his wrist before he can close the car door. As he looks up, Danny finds that, in the last half-second, Steve's gaze has turned serious. It clearly says,  _We're talking about this later_. This, as in, Danny running out in a panic and about to drive away in Steve's truck. 

Wonderful. Danny has the time it takes Steve to get off the phone to come up with a plausible explanation. 

He waves at Steve in an  _Understood_ gesture. 

Steve reluctantly lets go, one, long finger unwrapping at a time, like he's worried he'll have to hunt Danny down to have this conversation. 

Give the SEAL a gold star, because he's right. 

Danny doesn't sprint from the parking lot, but it's a near thing. As soon as he's in the lobby, he pivots towards the building's Eastern exit. It opens up onto the street. There's a 24-hour convenience store at the end of the block. 

Maybe Steve might believe he'd been going for a beer run?  Except, they don't drink at Five-0. And, a beer run can't justify how much of a rush he'd been in. 

Danny decides to head for the convenience store anyway, hoping inspiration will hit him along the way. They do say walking gets the creative juices flowing. 

Danny's discarded another three ideas by the time he gets to the shop. And, now that he's here, he has to buy something if he doesn't want to be accused of blatantly avoiding McGarrett. 

Damn it all to hell.

As he stands there, staring at all the bags of chips his stomach is too twisted up to digest, he feels...like an asshole on a slippery slope. 

A mud slide, to be exact. 

Steve hates lies. And he doesn't like it when people keep secrets, even if they're meant to keep him safe. This Wo Fat thing, Danny's pretty sure, is going to bite him in the ass. If it doesn't entirely rip him apart. And, fuck, but he doesn't want to lose Steve's trust. 

Time seems to slow down as Danny stares, unseeing, at a colorful selection of junk food. Because, an odd thought occurs to him. 

He knows Steve, the Lieutenant Commander who runs Five-0. 

And Steve, the Uncle (or third father) to his...Gracie. Not kids, just Gracie. Fuck. His chest hurts.

And Steve, the absolute goof who gets equally excited about challenging Danny to Super Mario, trying out the newest guns at the range, and finding creatively terrible (or terribly creative?) ways to extract information from suspects. 

But, does he know Steve, the Navy SEAL? Does he  _really_ know where Steve's lines are drawn? Then, and now? 

Danny's spent so long feeling guilty about Reyes and thinking of himself as a murderer. In his mind, he remembers just the two of them in that scene, a gun between Danny's hand and Reyes's terrified face. But that's not how it happened. 

Steve had been there. 

And he hadn't stopped him. 

Hadn't kicked him out of Five-0. Hadn't turned him in. Saved him from a Columbian prison he'd rightly deserved to be locked in. Danny's too muddled to remember if Steve had ever done something like that for his own benefit. He'd wanted to kill Hesse, but It's different when both sides are armed. When it's an even fight, kill or be killed, Danny knows Steve wouldn't hesitate. But, could he do it cold and preplanned?  Or, at the very least, let Danny do it? 

There's only one way to find out. 

The bell inside the shop rings.

When Danny looks up, Steve's there, watching him with dark, unreadable eyes, a shoulder leaned up against the door frame. He cocks his head.  _You done_? 

Danny's been in the shop long enough that it'd be awkward not to get anything. He pays for a jug of iced tea, no sugar, because Grace is still on him about eating healthy, then follows Steve out the door. 

It's late and most of the shops are closed which is probably how Steve had found him so quickly. That he had to find him at all has Steve's knickers in a twist. The man doesn't say anything until they reach the parking lot. 

"Wasn't the team celebrating?" Danny asks, because Steve doesn't seem to have any intention of going back to the office and it's clear Danny's not going to be leaving his sight any time soon.

"They moved the party to a bar."

"We're not joining them," Danny guesses.

"Did you want to?" Steve asks, but he doesn't need Danny's nod for confirmation, already having intuited just how long this night's been for him. 

"Thing 3 is not a short discussion. We should eat dinner beforehand, but I'd rather it be somewhere quieter than a bar." There'll be plenty of things for Steve to be angry about after they have that conversation. In case they're the last good moments he gets with Steve, he wants to spend them alone, just the two of them. 

"My place," Steve decides, then holds his palm out. "Keys." 

"You have your own copy," Danny reminds him. "Also, I think it'd be best if we drove separately." 

"I'm asking for yours because I have no intention of giving them back until tomorrow," Steve says. And Danny has no idea if that's crazy or not. He feels like he wouldn't be wrong to protest, here. That this is not what normal people do. But, he's not actually sure anymore. Steve's been wearing him down for over a decade. 

"You may not want to see me tomorrow," Danny reminds. 

Steve's eyebrows scrunch up, like he's trying not to roll his eyes. "I'll run to work if I have to, or call Chin to pick me up." 

"What are you picturing here, Steve? That I'm going to disable the Camero's GPS tracker and drive off, never to be seen again?"

Steve obviously has no idea why he's being so insistent, but the compulsion is strong enough that he doesn't back down. 

Luckily for him, Danny understands Steve's control issues to some degree, having been subjected to Partner Counseling sessions with the man for a few years running. He gets that Steve needs to feel he has control over his environment. That he needs to impose order when he's feeling insecure or if the world is being particularly chaotic. 

Danny's just not sure why today qualifies. 

They caught the bad guy. 

Nobody died. 

As far as Steve knows, everything's good. 

In any case, he tosses SuperSEAL his keys and walks around to the passenger side. In the corner of his eye, he catches Steve's deep exhale and the way his shoulders relax. 

They order takeout – cheap and greasy, which renders Danny's good iced tea decision relatively pointless. In fact, he regrets the iced tea since it serves as a reminder to Steve that he'd had to chase Danny down. He pours Danny a glass without asking. 

It's a small action but, in it, Danny can hear, quite clearly,  _No beer, tonight. We need to be sober for this_. 

Over dinner, Steve tries to ask what prompted Danny to run out to the car. 

Danny just raises the volume on the game they're watching. 

The rest of dinner is quiet. There's no talking. Everything they say is in their gestures, hidden in the body language of looks and touches. 

Danny sits close, right up against Steve's side, the man's heartbeat a rhythm he feels against his shoulder. The back of his neck is being warmed by a long arm. Their legs are tangled together. 

And when the food's gone, they finish out the game, Steve nosing at Danny's hair and neck, fingers petting where they may. One hand slides under the bottom of Danny's shirt to massage his navel, trace abdominal muscles, and thumb at his nipples. The other hand, he slides through Danny's hair, when it's not playing with his ear or rubbing soft circles along Danny's neck and collarbone. 

But all things end – good and bad. So, too, does the game. 

They clear the table, throw out the trash, shower (separately), and brush teeth. 

And then comes the moment of truth. 

Steve tries to pull Danny onto the bed, into the space of his arms. 

"No, babe, I promise you, this is not a conversation you want to have here," Danny says, pulling on his button-down shirt and dress pants, because he's an idiot and did not bring correct sleep attire, even though it was predictable that they'd end up at Steve's. 

"What are you doing?" Steve asks, lifting the untucked corner of Danny's shirt like it's a snake. 

"Thing 3 is a conversation I want to have whilst fully clothed." 

"You can borrow my clothes, Daniel," Steve says, rolling his eyes this time, but then he catches sight of Danny's expression. "What the –  _Danno_." This time, there's no fending off Steve's arms. With Steve still sitting on the bed and Danny standing, the hug mostly catches him around the waist, not that Steve doesn't try to pull him into his lap.  

"Come on, let's go downstairs. The sooner we have this conversation, the sooner this night ends," Danny says, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, trying to sound convinced it's a good thing. 

But Steve can't be derailed so easily. "You seriously think if you borrowed my clothes that I'd, what? Demand them back? What the hell is going on in that head of yours, Danno?" 

"I'm sorry," Danny says. 

"For what?" 

Danny tries to pull away. To go downstairs, where he'll be close to the door. Where he can just slip on his shoes and walk home, if he has to. 

Unwilling to get into a tug-of-war in this situation, Steve concedes. But, because he can't give in without a mercenary clause, he says, "Only if you change into whatever you'll be sleeping in."

"I didn't bring pajamas," Danny states what is obvious to both of them. 

Steve gestures at the room they're in.  _Pick something_. 

"Okay, then  _this_ is what I'm sleeping in," Danny says, waving down the line of his body. 

"Don't make me dress you, Danno," Steve growls. It's one of the strangest things about the guy. Because, this is what nervous looks like on SuperSEAL. Depending on the situation, he either gets more patient or more aggressive. Danny can't think of one time where Steve just looked scared. 

Plenty of times, the man had walked into a bad situation wide-eyed with worry, a thread of fear in his stance, but he'd still talked the perp out of shooting someone or thoughtlessly traded himself for a hostage. Or he'd hauled off and punched someone, no matter how many people had guns on him. 

Danny's honestly surprised. 

Right now, and maybe starting from when he'd jumped into Steve's truck, Danny has been making Steve increasingly nervous. Which is not a good way to start this conversation. 

So, in an effort to mellow Steve out, Danny capitulates, changning into the sweats and shirt from the night before. It's a strategic choice for two reasons. 

One, he won't need to wash additional clothes.

And two, his choice makes Steve grin wolfishly. Most particularly at the sweats, the material of which, in places, is crusty instead of soft. Cum stains from yesterday. Danny has no idea why that's appealing to SuperSEAL, but he's not about to question it. 

This time when he walks out of the room, Steve's leading the way. 

They settle on the couch, but at opposite ends, per Danny's insistence. "Trust me, you're going to be glad there's space between us. Also, if you punch me, I'm out of here." 

Steve outright gapes at him. " _Punch_ you? Wow...I'm starting to think we're not just on different pages. We might be reading different books."

"I'm sorry," Danny just says again. Because he really is. 

Not just about waiting two months to tell Steve about Wo Fat, or what he's set in motion tonight. 

He's sorry if any of his actions have caused ripple effects in the Doris saga. 

He's sorry that Steve's mother hadn't found a way, with all her vast CIA experience and contacts, to keep her family intact. 

He's sorry that so many people in Steve's life have kept things from him, lied to him, betrayed him. And he's desperately sorry if, after tonight, Steve feels like he's another person that belongs on that list. 

"I think you'd best start talking, Danny," Steve says, swallowing hard. For the first time, he looks like he's considering that maybe this isn't one of Danny's moments of exaggeration. That maybe this really is something that could tear them apart. "Start with the car. You were going to drive somewhere in my truck. Why?" 

"I did something tonight – went down to the interrogation room to see Wo Fat. And made a deal with him." 

"A deal," Steve repeats, mystified. Then, the implications hit him. "Wait, what deal?!" He's on his feet in an instant. "Did you let him loose?!" He's already tucking a gun he retrieved from who knows where into the waistband of his pants. 100% prepared to run out into the night in his boxers and a t-shirt to hunt down Wo Fat. 

"No, of course not! Geezus, sit down! No, I did not let that maniac loose."

"What deal, Danny?" Steve says, still on his feet and a very far cry from relaxed.  It's obvious he's not going to sit down until he knows, for sure, he doesn't need to take immediate action. 

"An exchange. Information for money." 

"You...want him to pay you?" 

"Yes, because the earnings from the illegal gambling haven't been enough to fund my shopping addiction," Danny scoffs. "No, Steven, it's not a deal I plan to make good on."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. "Danny, I think you should take a class or something. Because the way you dole out facts, one at a time, is actually going to give me an aneurysm one day." 

"My delivery's not the problem. Time travel bullshit is hard to believably explain. And this Thing 3 and Wo Fat stuff is just a bunch of bad news that you're not going to like." 

Steve's adrenaline is still too high for sitting down, but he sounds calmer when he asks, "What was this deal, and why did you make it in the first place?" 

Danny takes a moment to decide where to start. "He thinks you know things you don't. Because I was in the loop when you were finding shit out the first time, I know he's looking for his father, as well as the CIA agent who killed his mother. And I think I know where they are. I offered him the information in exchange for ten million." 

"But why?" Steve's finally confused enough to sit down. "And what does any of this have to do with me?"

Danny fully expects the conversation to end as soon as he tells Steve about Doris. She's a treasured memory right now. A reminder of happier times. All the good parts of his childhood. And Danny gets to be the one to tarnish those memories. 

He hates that he has to do this. And fuck, but he's scared of the reaction he's about to provoke. He's pictured this moment a lot in the past weeks. Steve calling him a liar. Steve throwing him out. Steve cold-cocking him in the face. It's not like he has proof.

Because he's not trying to keep his expression steady, Steve can easily see some of his thoughts and predictions on his face. With a sigh, Steve says, "Come here."

"No."

"I'm not going to keep you on this side of the couch. But, right now, you look like you're never going to see me again. And, if you really believe that, then we should have a proper goodbye moment."

"Goodbye moment?" Danny repeats. "What, like in the movies? It's not like you're going to war. At worst, we never speak again."

Steve releases a world-weary sigh. "I made you a promise just yesterday, Danno. Now, come here."

"You might regret this in a few minutes."

"Well, right  _now_ , you're my favorite person." And then the jerk cajoles, "Come on, Danno. Can you really say you won't regret missing out on one last kiss, before it all falls apart?" He's teasing, because the idiot needs to control everything. Including the mood. 

However, he's not wrong. 

"I'd regret it," Danny admits. 

Steve waits patiently for Danny to slide within range of his arms before pulling him the rest of the way in. 

Because this really could be their last kiss, Danny treats it like one, leaning in first, licking into Steve's mouth with an insatiable hunger. 

He already knows it won't be enough. One fantastic kiss could never make up for a lifetime of mediocre ones – if Steve's even capable of mediocre kisses. So far, Danny's only seen precision, skill, and so much passion, you could flood a fleet of battleships with it.

Steve responds to the desperation in Danny's kiss in kind, matching him with a ferocious hunger that leaves Danny feeling like his soul's being sucked out of him. Fingers thread into his hair, holding him steady, as Steve touches so deep with just a kiss, drinks of him so intimately.

But all things must end. 

So, too, does the kiss.

When they finally break apart, they stay close enough, foreheads pressed together, that they're still sharing labored breaths. "Please, Danno, tell me the rest right here," Steve asks.

Danny huffs in disbelief. "Do you ever  _not_ have an end game? I mean, honestly, you take the two birds, one stone thing a little far." He has to press a hand to Steve's chest to keep him on his side of the couch. And, as soon as he's out of arms-length, he breaks the light atmosphere with the bombshell.

"Doris McGarrett, codenamed Shelburne, is the CIA agent who killed Wo Fat's mother. She faked her own death with that car bombing and she's been living off the grid with Joe White's help. So, she's probably still alive. And, Joe White probably knows where she is. When you went looking for her last time, you found her in Japan."

Nothing happens for a long moment. 

At first, Steve's paused, as if on standby, likely replaying Danny's information dump in his head, trying to make sense of it. It's not long before he's shaking his head.

"My mother was a school teacher," Steve says. 

"Sure, after you were born, that's the job she chose. Just like you used to be a full-time Navy SEAL and now you run Five-0."

"No, I mean –"

"I know what you mean, babe, and I am saying, unless this is an alternate universe, she was, at some point, an agent. But, if you want proof or details, you need to ask Joe White, because I was not privy to much regarding your mother. Possibly because you were  _also_ not privy to much. She was kind of...secretive."  

Again, Steve's shaking his head. "No, my mother was a school teacher," and then he's on his feet, pacing. "She went to PTA meetings and parent-teacher conferences. She taught me and Mary how to surf, and took us spear fishing on the weekends, and made chicken salad on picnic days, and drove me to football practice...You're wrong, Danny. I don't know where you got your information, but you're  _wrong_." He pins Danny with dark eyes, a challenge in his glare. 

When Danny doesn't say anything, doesn't even move from where he's leaning into the armrest of the couch, Steve stalks closer. "Well?" 

"Well, what?"

"You don't have anything to say?" Steve asks in disbelief. 

"What do you want me to say, Steven? Yes, your mother was a school teacher. And, even though a number of things I 'dreamed' have turned out to be true, maybe she's what I get wrong. Maybe she really is dead. Maybe there's two Doris McGarrett's and it's just a case of mistaken identity. Or, maybe, everything I've said is right. I  _don't_ know. But, hey, it should be easy enough to verify. All it would take is one phone call to your C.O." 

Steve's eyes light on the table, where his cell phone rests. His hand twitches, an aborted reach for the phone. 

Danny can guess why he's hesitating. Joe White is practically Steve's godfather. He's a man Steve looks up to. Ohana. With the anger that's making his nostrils flair and the pulse throb in his neck, Steve probably doesn't want to call Joe. Probably doesn't want to end up yelling all his frustrations out on a father figure.

"He's not the only one," Steve says, interrupting Danny's musings. 

Brow furling in confusion, Danny says, "I don't follow." 

"You said Wo Fat's under the impression that I know more than I know. Stuff about Shelburne. Supposedly, because Shelburne is my mother. He's  _got_ to have details." Enflamed, Steve pivots on his heel and runs up the stairs. 

Shit. 

Well, there's good news and bad news.

Good news: Steve's about to confirm to Wo Fat just how little he knows about Shelburne.

Bad news: You can't ask questions about things you don't know about. So, there will have to be a source. To Wo Fat, it will probably be obvious that Danny's told Steve everything. And what kind of crooked cop that's looking to avoid getting caught does that? 

At least it should cement Danny as the target.

Hardly a minute's gone by and Steve's back, dressed all in black like some kind of assassin. He's got Danny's keys in hand, his frame tight with leashed energy. He shouldn't be driving. But when he gets like this – all Man-On-A-Mission – Steve's unstoppable, so Danny doesn't even bother trying to talk him out of it. 

Watching the veins in his arm stand out as Steve yanks open his front door, Danny just mumbles a "drive safe." He doesn't expect Steve to hear him with the state he's in. 

Except Steve freezes. 

His head tilts, chin first, in Danny's direction. Slowly, he looks at Danny out of the corner of his eye.

And then – oh,  _fuck!_  not good, not good, not good – he closes the door. Gently. The lock slides into place with a snick. 

The silence that fills the room feels predatory. 

"Earlier, you didn't answer the first part of my question."  Not turning to face him yet, Steve's voice is low when he asks, "Why did you make that deal, Danny? What did you actually get out of going to see Wo Fat on your own?" 

Even over the drone of the ocean waves, there's no way that Steve doesn't hear the way his breath stutters. "Um...well, I gave Stan a heads up to update his security. Grace is as safe as she can be."

Confusion turns Steve. "That's not what I asked." 

"No, but I'm telling you because I want you to know, I thought about this." 

" _This_?" Steve hisses, sharp, mental gears turning too fast for the speed of conversation, already examining and discarding the possibilities. And, inevitably, coming to the right conclusion. "You waved a red cape in front of a bull," he posits, the muscle in his jaw pulsing.

"I did the kind of stupid thing only you would do," Danny confirms, crossing his arms. "And hey, two birds, one stone. Since I talked to him first, he substantiated a few things for me." At the flash of fear that briefly flits through Steve's eyes, Danny soothes, "Don't worry, I didn’t mention your mother by name. I just needed to know that Shelburne was a real thing before I told you about it. At the very least, there's some woman out there who's using that codename." 

But the fear in Steve's eyes only grows. "You got Stan to promise you extra security for Grace," he repeats, like he's just realizing the implications. "Wo Fat doesn't stay in prison, does he?" Steve asks, but he doesn't need to wait for an answer, reading the skepticism in Danny's expression. "Danny...how high up is this guy, exactly?"

"Well, you already know about Hiro and Hesse. But, he's also got the governor under his thumb. Which means there might be more government officials." 

"Governor Jameson is working with him?" Steve asks, needing the validation. 

Another blow Danny gets to deliver. Although, at least this one won't land as heavy. Or at least it shouldn't, but Steve's breath hitches. 

Even so, Danny's not expecting the way Steve lunges, hands a steel grip seizing on Danny's upper arms. "Do you have any idea what you've done?" he growls, physically shaking Danny, like he wants to jolt him awake. "A man who has the power to manipulate both crime bosses and government officials, and you tell him you know the locations of people he desperately wants to find? He doesn't even have to leave his jail cell to hurt you, Danny! This is personal to him. Until he gets what he wants, he won't stop hunting you!"

"I know, babe. Sometimes, I was there, in the thick of things with you. Other times, I was there, cleaning up the aftermath. Once upon a time, whenever he could get his hands on you, he'd torture you for information. Once upon a time, he killed Jenna and her fiancé. So, you don't have to remind me what's at stake. I'm well aware." 

"Then why the fuck did you do it, Danny?" Steve asks, a layer of grit in his voice. Worry stacked onto apprehension, covered in a thick fury. If there's something that makes Steve itch in his skin, it's fear of loss. Of having people leave him, or having people taken from him. Especially ohana. Danny guesses part of the reason he's cutting off Danny's circulation is because otherwise he'd be raking his nails over his skin, desperate to scratch the itch of needing to fix and solve and blast away problems. 

"Because I can't do it a second time, Steve," Danny admits, asking with his tone for understanding. "I can't watch the two of you play cat and mouse for a few more years. Fuck, can you imagine what it feels like? Not just finding you beaten bloody in the back of a truck in North Korea, too weak to sit up all the way, but also to hear you ask 'where's Wo Fat?' Like that's the most important thing when we're in enemy territory, on an unapproved mission, miles from any kind of hospital. Or, the time we found you lying next to Wo Fat in a pool of water not far from electrical cables? We were sure the two of you had shot each other." 

"So, what, you figured now it's my turn to see all that? And what about Grace, Danny? Huh? How do you think she's going to feel when she has to deal with the aftermath? You said you were going to try to make an effort to share your burdens with me, and you pull a stunt like this? Fuck, Danno, did you even stop to consider that maybe it was a blessing that he was aiming at me the first time around? Me, the trained Navy SEAL whose mother apparently is responsible for this whole situation in the first place?"

At the mention of Grace, Danny tries to push Steve away, suddenly pissed. He doesn't manage to dislodge the Neanderthal, but he certainly doesn't stop trying as he yells, "Listen to me, you schmuck! It's not like it was any easier for Grace to visit you in the hospital. And, yes, I said I would  _try_ to share my burdens with you. So,  _this_? This is me trying! I could've easily skipped telling you about the fake deal I made with Wo Fat to draw him out. I could've tried handling it myself. In fact, that was the original plan! And it wasn't the sudden realization that I could use your ninja skills that convinced me to change that plan." 

In the face of Danny's anger, Steve, like a magnet with an opposite polarization, starts to reclaim some of his patience. His seizing grip loosens and drops down to Danny's elbows as he starts to reel Danny into his arms. 

The embrace, still so freely given, is a shock. Danny hadn't thought this far ahead. Doesn't know what to expect from this point on. He'd been so sure that, at the first mention of Doris McGarrett, Steve would be on a plane. This, in his mind, does not compute. 

At least all Danny's predictions on how this would go weren't completely off base. 

Steve's still far from alright. And, as is common of him in SuperSEAL mode, Steve's focus turns to gathering intel. Starting with, "What convinced you, Danny?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course, it does. I want to know what changed your mind."

Danny sighs. "It was less of a change and more of a realization. Steve, we don't lie to each other. Sure, there are times we downplay injuries or omit things and, lord knows, you've been known to disappear on secret missions or answer question after question with 'it's classified', but we don't outright  _lie_ to each other. And, as I was standing in the shop, trying to think of a way to explain why I'd been ready to race away from HQ in your truck, I realized I had two options. I could either face an uncertain future with no backup and lose your trust along the way, or I could put my faith us, as a partnership. This is me choosing to believe that you'll work  _with me_  to think of a solution to the Wo Fat problem – a problem I admittedly exacerbated."

"Godammit, Danny, I could throttle you for this," Steve says, squeezing hard enough that ribs creak beneath the pressure, but it's obvious Danny's answer means a whole lot of something to him.  "To be clear, you're not allowed to do this again. And you can bet, you're going to be making up for these unilateral decisions for a very long time."

Danny sucks in a sharp, relieved breath. Because a long time in the dog house, is still a long time where they're, at the very least, still friends.

"Your relief hurts, Danny. You really thought this was all it would take to derail us?"

"I'm surprised that news of your mother and the stunt I pulled with Wo Fat weren't enough to make you second guess."

"Well, the second part might have me second guessing your intelligence," Steve teases, but his gaze is distracted, fingers twitching against Danny's back, as if aching for pen and paper. He's thrumming with the need to start making strategy maps and contingency plans. But, Steve's methodical. If they're still standing like this, then it's because Steve's got loose ends he wants to tie up. "So, was my Mom your Thing 3?"

With a wince, Danny shakes his head. " _Half_ of Thing 3," he says, pulling away. 

Again, Steve only allows an arms-length between them, still holding onto his elbows.

"I didn't particularly like sitting on the Shelburne information, but I thought it was necessary. And, I had the feeling that you would vehemently disagree. I figured you'd be bitter I kept stuff about your family from you."

"Huh...and you were basing this off the reactions you'd expect from your version of me?"

"You say that like there's two of you."

"I'm not going to be the Steve you knew, Danny. I'm going to make different mistakes, which are going to make me grow in different ways, learn different life lessons. And, my relationship with you is...it's going to make a difference." 

In the face of Danny's doubt, Steve catches his chin and makes him meet his eyes. "I love you, Danny. I don't think you have any idea how much. You brush me off when I ask you to move in with me, but I'm not asking because I hate that you're living in squalor or because it would save on commute time – "

"My apartment-du-jour is actually closer to the office than your house. You just want an excuse to drive my car," Danny interrupts, trying to lighten the serious thread Steve's taken up, because he doesn't want to hear this. Not until Steve's heard about Reyes.

Steve pinches him in silent warning, and continues. "I want to share my life with you, Danny. To wake up and see you, bleary-eyed and cranky, when I get out of bed for a morning swim. To be there when something's keeping you up at night, so we can huddle on the couch – you with headphones listening to late night television, me with an eye-mask, sleeping next to you because the bed feels too big without you there. 

"I want to come home from a weekend of training with the Navy to find you baking your mother's recipes while the unwashed dishes pile up in the sink. Watch the sunset with you on the lanai after a tough case.  

"I want Grace to sleep in a room we painted pink and filled with frilly-looking furniture on your weekends. And to meet the rest of your family and then get calls at odd hours of the day from your mother and sisters to exchange gossip. I want a thousand things with you Danny, and that list just keeps growing the more time we spend together. But, for some reason, you still don't believe me," Steve notes, sadly, reading Danny's expression. 

The life Steve's described sounds...wonderful. But baby-Steve isn't the same as the first Steve he knew. For him to be saying these things – openly talking about love – without anyone threatening them with death...two months-worth of divergences have changed things monumentally. 

Of course, they have. 

Steve hasn't been obsessing over the Champ Box and searching for the people who stole it from his home because Danny assured him he remembered enough that he'd bring up the information when it became relevant. All that time  SuperSEAL had spent embroiled in investigating and exercising away his concerns have instead been spent with Danny, who this time hasn't been pining after Rachel or worrying about giving his straight best friend the wrong – or right – impression. 

Unsurprisingly, the growth of trust and attachment between them has been exponential. They've both been putting in more effort to get to know each other these past two months. And Steve, to some degree, makes a point of saying things out loud, being obvious with his intentions and desires, ever since he realized that a lot of it flies over Danny's head. 

It's been so...nice. And, Danny really doesn't want to lose it. 

But better now, when maybe there's a way to take a step back, to retreat to a place of friendship. So, Danny rips off the band-aid, or possibly takes a sledgehammer to a cast with no real clue what's beneath it. "Would you still love a murderer?" He asks.

Steve's eyebrows go up. "You're a murderer," he says, deadpan, testing the statement against Danny's expression to see if he's serious. 

"Yes."

"So, what's your jam? Drive-by's, or are you more of a serial killer?" 

"I'm serious." 

"Yeah, I can see that. But, you'll have to forgive me, Daniel, if I think you're exaggerating." 

" _Exaggerating_ murder? Ok, I'm sorry, but how exactly do you exaggerate death? It's kind of a binary option. Either you kill someone, or you don't."

"Danny," Steve starts, "our job – "

"It had nothing to do with work! This was not some bad thing that happened on the job. It was a personal vendetta. The guy was unarmed and I shot him anyway." Danny tries to pull away, but Steve just repositions his hands to firmly hold Danny by the upper arms.

"So, which part bothers you? That he was unarmed or that it was personal?"

"Both! Both parts bother me. And you can't tell me that it doesn't bother you because you're the guy who, time and again, put Wo Fat in prison rather than shooting him. Given the opportunity to end him during a plane crash, you still let him live." 

When Steve looks like he's going to argue, Danny cuts him off with a warning. "Please don't tell me that it wasn't you. Because, he'd had a few years' worth of shit happen to him and he still turned the other cheek."

Steve bites his lip, and it's like Danny can see in real time, SuperSEAL deciding on a plan of attack. "Danny, do you believe I started out the same as your Steve? That I  _was_ your version of Steve up until you showed up with knowledge of the future? You know, I got you shot, threatened to throw a guy off a roof, put another guy in a shark cage, that sort of thing?" 

"Yes, you most definitely did those things the first time around." 

"Did I ever tell you why I did those things?"

"Well, I mean, the  _why_ was obvious. You wanted answers and you were too impatient to actually question the suspects. Get into their heads." 

"No, Danny," Steve's shaking his head. "It wasn't impatience. I didn't see anything wrong with what I was doing and, to some degree, I still don't. In the Navy, you do what you have to or the nation loses. You get used to extremes. Hanging a guy off a roof was pretty much standard operating procedure. That's part of the reason the missions are classified. The things I've done...if we were both on our death beds, with no one to overhear us, I still wouldn't tell you about my classified missions, because I wouldn't be willing to risk your opinion of me.  You're my moral compass, Danno. I use your reactions as my barometer to judge what's okay to do, and what's too far."

Danny snorts. "I tell you all the time not to do things. You do them anyway."

"I could do worse, Danno. Because you react so strongly to the mild stuff, I know better than to go further," Steve says, thumbs rubbing circles into Danny's arms in a calming gesture.

"You're really okay with it?" Danny asks, but there's less disbelief in his voice this time.

"Where was I when this murder happened?" Steve asks. 

Danny doesn't need to answer.

"That's what I thought. You know, Danno, I find it baffling that you can be such a fantastic detective, with one of the highest close rates, and yet, when it comes to your private life, you're so fucking oblivious. Downright obtuse. That you thought your once-in-a-lifetime vendetta could undo us...fuck, Danny, when have I ever shirked doing what needed doing to protect my family?"

Danny can't think of an example. Steve puts family above everything else. Hell, how many times had Steve gone against the grain of what was "right" for the sake of his ohana? 

In the first year alone, he'd lied to the FBI. 

He'd stolen money to pay Hesse for Chin's life. 

And, he hadn't hesitated to turn a gun on the governor. 

"Okay, so maybe I'm a little obtuse," Danny admits. He lets himself be reeled into Steve's arms again.

SuperSEAL dusts kisses along his temple, nosing at his hair, as he mutters, "What am I going to do with you, Danno? Just stop worrying for a little while and let me love you." 

They stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other, swaying on their feet, and sharing light, brushing kisses of affection. 

But Steve's fingers are still twitching against Danny's back, still ramped up to concoct plans, talk strategy. 

"Let me guess, you have a prioritized list of objectives you want to work through tonight, huh?" Danny finally says, gently extracting himself from SuperSEAL's hold. 

"We need a blueprint for how we're going to tackle them," Steve says, leaning in an unconscious move to press one last kiss to Danny's forehead. 

And they're off. 

They walk into the office the next morning, Danny stumbling around on coffee fumes and Steve practically thrumming to get started. Their first task of the day is to explain to Chin and Kono the new prioritized action items Five-0 will be tangentially working on, in between cases and paperwork. 

Steve gathers them in front of the computer table and immediately jumps in with both feet, filling in Chin and Kono on the information Danny had shared with him. 

Chin's taking notes, doesn't bat an eye at hearing Danny had confronted Wo Fat with a poorly thought out scheme to draw the man's attention, and the governor's betrayal doesn't faze him, but his hand stumbles over the keys when Steve gets to the part about his mother.  

"Doris was an agent?" 

Steve nods.

"Then, Wo Fat wants revenge against Mrs. McGarrett?" Kono speculates.

Confident, Steve nods. But his eyebrows go high when he sees Danny shrug with honest uncertainty. 

"Maybe. He has plenty of reason to hate her for screwing up his childhood. On the other hand, she was his foster mother for a few years."

 Steve's gaping at him. 

Danny explains, "She was supposed to kill his father. She made a mistake and, out of guilt, she raised Wo Fat for a few years, until the CIA found out and recalled her. I have no clue what Wo Fat thinks of her. Doris, though, seemed to have a soft spot for him. Like, enough of a soft spot that she was visiting him in prison." 

At this news, Steve looks unsettled. His fingers twitch near his pocket where he keeps his phone. 

Danny catches his eyes. "I remember the rest, babe. Go ahead and make the call," he says. "And don't let Joe play you. If he says he doesn't know about Shelburne, he's lying." 

Steve's obviously torn, but it's the possibility of his mother being alive. It's honestly a miracle he made it this long. With a terse nod, Steve claps Danny's shoulder and sequesters himself in his office. 

"So...Governor Jameson – John McGarrett planted a camera in her office that should still be there. Once upon a time, when we reviewed the tapes, we found evidence of her dealings with Wo Fat. In particular, money exchanges that occurred after John's death. He never got to put her away, but, maybe we can."

Steve's not much help when it comes to putting together a case for a search warrant to present to a judge, so they begin without him. Chin and Danny start compiling intel while Kono half-heartedly joins them. 

"I thought we had immunity and means," Kono, the McGarrett-in-training, pouts.

"With the kinds of lawyers Jameson can afford, we have to be above board on this, from beginning to end, or any evidence we collect might be considered fruit of the poisonous tree," Chin says, shooting a virtual list of dates to cross-reference over to Kono on the computer display.

It's a good thing that Jameson had trusted in Wo Fat's abilities and connections so much. Enough evidence comes up – from money trails, to shared acquaintances, to convenient stays at the same hotels on a smattering of dates – that, by the time Steve resurfaces, they have a solid case to show the judge later in the day. Their plan is to move aggressively, hopefully catch Jameson off guard. 

Steve heartily approves. So much so that he springs for lunch.

"Kamekona's?" Kono suggests, spinning her car keys around on a pinky. 

"We'll be right behind you," Steve says, waving Chin and Kono ahead of them. 

Watching them go, Danny feels apprehensive. If Steve's clearing the room, it can't be good news. "What did Joe say?" 

"He was very cryptic over the phone. Wouldn’t even confirm that the name Shelburne meant anything to him, but he's flying over from the mainland for a...visit," Steve ends slowly, observing Danny from the corner of his eye. As if debating whether or not to say more. 

"What else, babe?" Danny prompts, folding his hands over his chest. 

Steve shrugs with entirely too much nonchalance. "I didn't tell him the whole story, obviously. But I let him know there might be a lot of dangerous people targeting us after today. He...had a few suggestions." 

"What kind of suggestions?" Danny asks, already knowing he's going to hate whatever hair-brained idea comes out of Steve's mouth. 

"He suggested a few security upgrades I could make to my house, but that won't help if they try to kidnap one of us off the street. Also, I told him you'd probably be the primary target."

"Let me guess. You want me to move in with you." 

Steve nods, but it's hesitant. As if that's not the part he's afraid will set Danny off. 

"What kind of suggestions, Steven?" Danny waves, impatiently.

"Microchip implants, so we can keep track of each other. Obviously, most of the time, it'd just be an altered fraud detection AI checking our locations and comparing them to trends in our past behavior, algorithmically looking for abnormalities. The only time a human would look at the data would be if a break in pattern was detected," Steve rushes out. 

"You want to chip us like dogs," Danny simplifies. 

"It's to keep us safe, Danny!" 

"Really?  _Us_? So, you're getting a chip too? Even though you're still potentially on the hook for top secret, super classified Navy SEAL missions?" 

"I'd have to take it out before running any black ops, and get re-chipped afterwards, but yeah, when I say us, I mean all of Five-0." 

"That doesn't seem a little nuts to you?!" 

"No, Danny, it doesn't. In fact, I think it's crazier to ignore technology that's out there, readily available." 

"What if someone hacks into our locations, huh? What then?"

"It's no different than the tracker in the Camero, Danny. And it's not like you try very hard to make your schedule unpredictable or keep your home address secret. Fuck, your apartment doesn't even have a decent lock. And, you could always remove the chip if you needed to hide and you thought the chip was compromised. Think about this rationally, Danno. The only time you'd probably be hidden someplace unexpected would be if some criminal was keeping you there." 

This microchip business is not good. 

Danny honestly doesn't remember enough details about old cases to try saving people ahead of time, but it does come up on occasion. A feeling of déjà vuthat Danny can't bare not to follow up on. There have been nights where he's parked his car on a street that stands out in his memory and slept in the back seat. Just in case. So far, those nights have been fruitless, which is why Steve doesn't know about them yet. 

And now doesn't feel like the time to bring it up, so Danny deflects. "Are you calling me a boring person?" 

Pinching Danny's side in warning, Steve fishes Danny's copy of the keys out of his pocket and doesn't dignify him with a verbal response. 

"It's a violation of privacy," Danny argues, chasing after long strides with a speedy walk. He refuses to run after SuperSEAL. And if the man tries to drive off without him, he'll find ribbons instead of tires on his truck when he gets back. 

"It's 2011, Danny. You don't have any privacy. The credit card companies are watching your purchases, the bank's tracking your spending, your browser is running analytics on your search terms whenever you use the internet. If someone's savvy enough to hack your location from a microchip, then they could just as easily hack your phone and turn on the GPS. You're being irrational." 

"Am not!" 

"Are too!" 

"What are you, in middle school?"

Steve suddenly whirls to face him. 

They're in the lobby. Margaret, the secretary who sits at the front desk, pauses to stare at them, a fork-full of salad frozen in midair. The man really is shameless. Or smart enough to know that Danny will want to end this conversation early, just to avoid the spectacle. 

Danny doesn't usually mind being a spectacle. It comes with the big, loud, Jersey-family territory. He's had screaming matches with Rachel in public. Usually, it's Steve who avoids arguing about private things in front of people who aren't actively part of the discussion. For all that their argument is about security, it's still a private matter.

Danny actually loses the thread of the argument for a second as he wonders at the choice in location. Because it's definitely a choice. A strategic one, knowing SuperSEAL. When it's something that "needs" to be done in public so that Steve can "WIN" - like the way he'd twisted Danny's arm that first day in front of HPD – Steve turns into an exhibitionist. 

It takes a second, but when Danny shifts his feet, dress shoes tapping against fancy tile. The sound echoes. Danny's prone to shouting, but the lobby has the acoustics of a museum. Even for Danny, it's awkward to shout in the lobby. 

Clever asshole. 

Fingers snap right in front of his nose. 

"Seriously? You want to lose one of those fingers, McGarrett?" Danny growls, irritated. 

"Oh, so you're awake?" Steve grins.

"You think you're clever, but you're not! I see right through you," Dany says, pointing a finger in Steve's face. 

He tries to walk around Steve, but the man shifts to block him. 

"I thought we were going to lunch," Danny tries. 

"We are. After we finish discussing this." 

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny sees Margaret's hand inching towards her phone, amusement in her eyes. 

He does not want to find this scene on the internet. Muttering a curse under his breath, Danny sells himself down the river. "If you can convince Chin, I'll do it," Danny says, hoping Chin won't give into Steve's madness. Although it's a tall order. 

Steve apparently thinks so as well, since his face lights up, like he's already won.

As soon as they get to Kamekona's, he sends Danny to order the food while he heads to the table. Danny shakes his head, but lets him have Chin and Kono to himself for a few minutes so that he can make his argument unobstructed by Danny's negative opinion. 

By the time Danny's got their food, Steve's grinning, hands on his hips. On approach, he hears Steve say, "I know it's the weekend, but we'll plan to meet at the office. Joe's catching a flight in tonight, so we can get them injected tomorrow afternoon." 

"Seriously, you guys agreed to this madness?" Danny asks, setting down the food and taking a seat next to Kono on one side of the table. 

Kono raises questioning eyebrows. "He told us you agreed to it."

"If and  _only if_  Chin did," Danny says. 

"Well, I feel lied to," Kono says, crossing her arms, but she's smiling. Danny can see her taking mental notes.

Chin, on the other hand, tisks at Danny. "Way to pass the buck, brah. It's your job to keep him in line."

"You're the bulwark that stops his crazy from infecting the rest of us," Kono teases.

Steve throws a fry at her. "Keep talking, rookie, and you'll be doing the lion's share of the paperwork next case."

"Oh, no, by all means, keep talking. I'd love to swap shares. This Neanderthal keeps shunting his reports onto me," Danny says.

"Well, you are kind of lion-like, Danno," Steve says from his seat across from him. Shifting in his chair, Steve stretches giraffe legs out so that they bracket Danny's beneath the table. They bump his lightly. "This is a  _good_ thing." 

Danny cocks an eyebrow. "Ok, you said a computer is going to monitor our whereabouts."

"Yeah. The logs will only get checked by a person if the AI identifies strange behaviors." 

"And you have to teach it what's considered strange?" 

"We can give it a few rules of thumb, mostly about nighttime activity," Steve explains. "If anything, it's my schedule that will generate the most false positives."

"Nighttime activities – so, what would be considered a strange nighttime activity?"

Steve squints at him confused. Using the patronizing "it's so obvious, why are you even asking?" tone that grates on Danny's nerves, he says, "Well, Danno, most people sleep during the night."

"Yeah, okay, Steve, but where do they sleep?"

"In their houses," Steve says, still missing how this could be a privacy issue. 

"So, if Kono finds a handsome fella to spend the night with, the computer will light up our phones with a warning and the guy's address?"

"Ah." The lightbulb goes off in Steve's head.

"And if Chin wakes up from a nightmare and decides to go for a drive down to the sea on his bike, we'll all get a notification. What's the protocol there? Do we all call him to check in? What if he left his phone at home? Do we all drive down to the location where the microchip is pinging?"

"Better safe than sorry," Steve says, but he's more addressing Chin and Kono, who are starting to realize just how much of their private lives might end up in a database. 

"And, every time I move to a new apartment, the computer will have to get updated."

Steve's legs gently squeeze in on either side of his. "That's why I keep telling you to move in with me, Danno." 

At that, Chin stops chewing and Kono's eyes widen. "Um...you two are moving in?"

"Not at this time," Danny says, glaring at Steve because this is not how you come out to your friends. 

"Okay. If you  _were_ moving in at this time, would it be two guys platonically sharing a house? Or..." Kono trails off under Chin's glare. 

This is why Danny had thought Chin would shut this microchip business down. The man is big on respecting people's privacy. 

But, now that the question's been raised, it would just be awkward not to answer it. Danny kicks Steve's shoe and nods sharply for him to explain, since he's the one who invoked Kono's curiosity.

Except, SuperSEAL just keeps on chewing his shrimp. 

"It wouldn't be platonic," Danny says.

For all that Kono is lethal behind a gun, even at impossible distances, and won't hesitate to drop kick someone for breaching surfer etiquette, she still squeals like a preteen girl over a vampire movie before congratulating them.

The microchip implants aren't brought up again, but Danny knows that, despite his legitimate concerns, they'll all be getting chipped tomorrow. 

At least there's good news a few hours later when the judge grants them a search warrant. And, because she's probably aware of Wo Fat's capture, they go in right away. Just in case Jameson gets the idea to start tossing evidence. 

And, wouldn't you know, the camera John McGarrett planted in her office is still there.

The day ends late, with Five-0 walking into HQ to find a surprising number of people, all of them in neatly cut suits, loitering in the lobby. Jenna Kaye is among them. 

The man in charge introduces himself as CIA and informs them that they'll be moving Wo Fat to the mainland to be questioned, prosecuted, tried, and, if nothing goes astronomically wrong, imprisoned. 

Steve's not happy. 

Danny's feelings are mixed. As long as Wo Fat being further away means he's less of a threat to them, then great. If they have to take a long flight to talk to him because he's got his cronies causing mayhem on the island in his stead, then this is not good. 

But there's nothing they can do. At the very least, with Wo Fat goes Jenna.

When she says her goodbyes, eyes teared up and worried, distracted with thoughts of her fiancé, Danny musters enough empathy to sincerely wish her luck. 

But when Steve starts what sounds like the beginning of an offer, "In case you ever get tired of working for the CIA –" Danny pinches his side out of Jenna's line of sight repeatedly until Steve covers his hand with his. 

"  – don't hesitate to call me. I know plenty of people who could use a good analyst," he finishes. 

She thanks him politely, a watery smile on her face.

When she's finally out of earshot, Steve turns to him. "You really don't like her," he says, eyes searching.

Danny shrugs. "She saved my life once." 

Confusion clouds Steve's expression. 

"And she nearly cost you yours." 

"Ah. Well then, tell me about it." 

"Even though it's irrelevant?"

"Just in case it becomes relevant, yeah, I want to know. Especially if you feel so strongly about it," Steve says, pointedly rubbing the spot Danny pinched.

Danny sighs, but it's the end of the day and at least they're heading home.  He spends the ride to Steve's place catching him up on the sarin incident and, later, the way Jenna had conned Steve into escorting her into North Korea.

Steve cocks his head at the end, glancing at Danny as he puts the car in park. "But she called you with our location. And she died in the end. That doesn't wipe her slate clean in your eyes?"

"No. Her fiancé was dead. If she'd found him alive, who knows what would've happened. Besides, she's still a living, breathing person at the moment. There's no guarantee Wo Fat won't play her again, and we might end up paying the cost." And fuck, but Danny's relieved to see understanding in Steve's eyes. 

There's a beat of silence as Danny waits for Steve to get out so that he can switch into the driver's seat.

"Stay over," Steve says, tone somewhere between a question and a command. Like he doesn't want to give Danny the chance to say 'no' but also knows better than to make it a dictate.

"It's late and we were up all of last night," Danny reminds. "I'm exhausted." 

"If you think the ocean's going to keep you up, then I'll stay over at your place. Just to sleep." 

Danny laughs, picturing Steve on his stupid, back-breaking pullout couch. "As much as I think you deserve some comeuppance for the microchip implants, I wouldn't subject you to that torture device of a bed," Danny says, getting out of the car. 

He can feel the relieved smile against his neck as Steve hugs him from behind and opens the door. 

Saturday morning, Steve springs a surprise trip on Danny. This time around, he doesn't ask so much as pack a backpack and tell Danny they're going hiking, so Danny doesn't realize that they're heading for the petroglyphs. 

When they reach their destination, Danny takes a deep breath, preparing to have both the trip and their weekend cut short. He doesn't mention it, though. This time around, Danny better understands the significance of the location and, with the impending whirlwind of trouble that is Doris McGarrett on their horizon, he's unwilling to spoil their trip from the get-go. 

Swallowing his own opinions about hiking up a mountainside this early in the morning to look at old graffiti, he follows Steve up to the petroglyphs, slowing their pace occasionally to ask after Steve's memories of his father and their time spent in this valley.

Steve's wistful and nostalgic as he describes the first time he beat his father to the summit, the picnics his family shared on different overlooks in the valley, and recounts a time Mary wandered off the beaten path and how they'd spent the trip looking for her in the dense brush until they got close enough to Marco-Polo a reunion. 

"That's a lot more information than you shared with me the first time around," he comments, as they close in on the petroglyphs, and the spot where their trip ended last time. 

Steve stops abruptly to look at him. "I brought you here?"

"Yeah, sure. Even talked about taking Grace, which, knowing how she eventually follows in your healthy footsteps, I'd say is a good idea. Maybe not right now, but in a few years?" 

Steve's still not moving. "How long did I know you before I took you here?" 

"Well, as long as  _you've_ known me. Probably right down to the day."

Steve shakes his head. " _How_? How did you not end up together?" 

"I misread a lot of things," Danny reminds him. "And, last time around, I felt like shit over Matt. The night he left, I ended up at Rachel's because she was the only other person on the island who knew him. And, like me, she was going to have to deal with the fallout when the holidays came around and Grace asked why Matt wasn't online for their Christmas Eve midnight skype call." Danny doesn't have to explain the rest. They'd already talked about Charlie before. 

In a few days, it'll be Charlie's birthday. In a little over a year, Charlie is supposed to be born into the world, but this time around, Rachel and Danny aren't flirting towards infidelity. He's not sure how he's going to react on that day. So far, he's been trying not to think about it, but judging by the razor-sharp pain in his chest at the thought...it's not going to be a good day. 

Steve still can't see past Danny's deliberate poker face. 

Probably because Steve's idea of a poker face is wearing a smooth, expressionless mask. And it's why Danny's ability to read him still baffles the idiot. But a good poker face isn't about being without emotion. 

It's about mimicking an  _appropriate_ emotion. Danny's tone had been easy in mentioning Grace and Matt. An emotionless mask would immediately hint that maybe he was less okay than he seemed. The light smile and a shrug Danny gives Steve as he nudges him to keep walking are convincing enough that the mood remains nostalgically happy. 

They get to the petroglyphs and they're neat, sure. But they don't speak to him the way they do to Steve. This place holds bad memories for Danny. Watching Steve go over the cliff had been harrowing. This time, there's no way he's letting SuperSEAL climb down to check on a dead body. 

Fuck, even if by some miracle the guy is alive, they don't have the necessary medical supplies to do much more than apply a bandage and some disinfectant. If there's visible blood, Danny decides he'll be the one to climb down and see if the guy's still bleeding. He's lighter, so maybe the cliff face won't chip beneath his weight. 

But he keeps Steve next to him, pestering him with questions, trying to waylay the moment Steve finds the body. Trying to extend the peace of the day for a little while longer. Unfortunately, there's only so many times he can tether Steve's restless energy to one spot. 

Inevitably, he ends up at the lip of the overlook.

...and...

What the hell? 

Danny feels a chill go up his spine. 

Steve's standing at the edge, looking down and across the valley, but he says nothing. 

Sidling up to his side, Danny peers down to the ledge below them and finds...no body. Something's changed. 

It's happened before, but Danny doesn't feel any less unsettled. He doesn't remember enough to hunt down the people involved in the murder that had happened here and check in on them. He wonders if there's another crime scene somewhere on the island, or if there's a different victim. How many chain reactions has he undone by putting a major player like Wo Fat behind bars? Or is Wo Fat destined to escape all that much sooner from the hands of his jailors? 

This time, his poker face is a little weak. 

"You okay?" Steve asks, throwing an arm across Danny's shoulders. 

Is today even the right day? Maybe his relationship with Steve has brought them here early. Fuck, is he going to have to climb this stupid mountain every weekend for the next few weeks to check for the body? 

"Hey," Steve bites his ear, because he's an animal and can't think of a better way to catch Danny's attention.

"Yeah, I'm good. It's just...very serene, here. Quiet. You'd think more people would be here on such a nice day. Landmarks and historical spots tend to attract tourists, at the very least." 

"This place isn't as well-known as the Waikoloa Petroglyph Field." He shrugs, pulling Danny with him, away from the edge. "Come on, race you to the top," Steve says, right before he takes off. 

"Why is everything a competition with you?!" Danny yells after him, breaking into a run. Obviously, he doesn't manage to overtake Giraffe-Legs McGee. 

By the time he gets to the summit, Steve's sitting against a tree, some distance from the edge.

"Come here, babe." He beacons Danny to him. His smile should be Danny's first warning. It's wolfish, the way it sometimes gets when his adrenaline is high or he's got a bad idea in his head. But there's no one shooting at them and Steve didn't bring the requisite equipment for something like cliff diving, so Danny ignores his instincts and moves to sit next to Steve. 

Only to get pulled into the cradle of Steve's long legs. It seems like a poor choice of seating arrangement, since Steve's cock is at half-mast against his ass and it's a very long way down the mountain and back home. 

Not for a second does Danny consider that Steve might deem this an appropriate location to have a sexual encounter. 

So, he's not suspicious when Steve hooks his chin over Danny's shoulder and wraps his arms around his waist. Effectively trapping Danny against him. 

Steve murmurs against his neck, "Your scent kills me, Danno. My blood pressure rises whenever I catch the smell of your skin and sweat on the breeze. Which, given the tropical weather, is all the time. It's one of the reasons I'm usually half-hard when you're in the Camero with me, out on a case on a hot day." Steve licks a stripe up Danny's neck before nuzzling behind his ear. 

"What are you doing? We're  _outside_!" 

Sucking Danny's earlobe into his mouth, Steve trails a hand from where he's been gently petting Danny's abdomen down to cover his crotch. "No one's around," he whispers, hot into the shell of Danny's ear. 

"Not the point, you Neanderthal animal! This is a public place!"

"The path to get up here is covered with gravel. We'll hear anyone before they can reach us," Steve says, tone soothing. He's trying to pull Danny into his unreasonable orbit. 

Danny catches Steve's hand, but his mistake is that he doesn't try to actively stop him from unzipping his pants. Just holds tight, his grip a testament to his nerves. 

"It's inappropriate," Danny says, but it's wasted breath. 

Steve's other hand moves up from his waist, fingertips trailing over Danny's throat, to cup his chin. With just a little bit of pressure, he turns Danny's head so he can lean in and kiss him. 

Steve's kisses are different depending on the mood and situation, but all of them drown out the rest of the world, if only for a little while. From a light dusting of pressed lips and kitten licks to any part of Danny he can reach, to the sultry kisses that really are too dirty to exchange in public, they make Danny lose temporal and spatial awareness.

So, it's no surprise that he doesn't notice Steve unwrapping the material from around Danny's cock when the man's tongue-fucking his mouth, licking the insides of his cheeks, and nipping at his lips. It's not until fingers actually curl around his dick that Danny becomes aware of the rest of his body. 

" _Steve_! It's daylight! We're in public! We can't do this," he hisses.

Steve tries to catch his mouth in a kiss, but Danny leans away too quickly.

"You're beautiful, Danno. Last time we had sex, I should've turned on the light, but the switch was too far away and there was a full moon. I didn't know how much I was missing," Steve says, running a finger between birthmarks as if he's tracing constellations.

"Do you purposely miss the point, or is it just a talent you h- _have_?" Danny bites down viciously on his lip to keep from moaning. 

Steve must keep lube in his cargo pants, because he pours slick over Danny's cock and massages it into the sensitive skin with his other hand. If there's a small mercy here, it's that he hasn't tried to uncover more than Danny's dick. His pants are still snug on his ass, so there's at least no chance that Steve will try to finger him in the open air. 

Steve sets a delicious pace – fast and tight for the most part, with just the occasional slow down so that he can thumb away Danny's pre-cum or drag his nail lightly beneath the frenulum. It's looking to be a normal hand-job, quick and easy – still unacceptable, but Danny's willing to weather a  _brief_ interlude – until, that is, Danny starts to get close to the edge. 

Not only does Steve stop moving. He squeezes just tight enough at the base of Danny's dick that he couldn't cum if he wanted to.

"Babe, what? No,  _please_...please, have a heart. Let me cum," he begs, bucking into Steve's grip.

"You want to cum, Danno? Then you're going to need to do something for me," Steve says right into his ear, voice a purr. 

Danny starts to shift, thinking Steve wants him to turn, make this a two-way street, but the hand that's been petting his hair and pulling Danny into kisses drops down to his waist and holds tight. "No, not that, babe. If you want to cum, you've gotta help."

"Help? What d-does that even mean?" Danny bites his lip again, choking on a moan as the hand that's not squeezing his dick slides down to rub a wet thumb over his piss-slit. 

"Ah, no biting. Here," Steve pushes cum-sticky fingers past his lips, "suck." 

Except with his mouth open around Steve's fingers, it's hard to remember that he's supposed to be keeping the noise down. 

"Fuck, Danny, listen to you! You can be damned sure that I'm going to work on getting you past your inhibitions. I want to be able to catalogue your noises. See if there's a pattern for what drags moans out of you, what moments make you incoherent." 

Danny feels Steve's cock, now fully hard, digging into his back. Steve rocks against him.

"M-maybe I'd h-have less in-inhibitions if you'd s-started this at a p-proper venue," Danny pants, between thrusts of Steve's digits. He can feel Steve watching him, avidly taking in just how Danny's lips look as he stretches them on his fingers. 

"Less? Sure. But I want to strip you of them. I want to see every side of you. For instance, with words...verbal communication means a lot to you. You like to talk through things. I think words make situations real for you in a way that just thinking about them doesn't. I bet it's the reason you blush and get all shy when I talk to you during sex, or when I'm blunt about discussing it. But, I also want to hear you ask for what you want. It's why I love driving you to the edge like this – I get to hear you beg for more." He licks behind Danny's ear.

"I-is that wh-what you're w-waiting for, here?" Danny tries to touch his dick, but gets his hand blocked. 

"No, that's just a bonus. What I want is for you to help me out. While I'm busy with your mouth and dick, I want you to pull up your shirt and play with your nipples. I want to see you tug those hardened little nubs into real tips."

Danny tries to duck away from Steve as he feels his face heat, the blush reddening his skin down to the shoulders. Not that it works. 

Steve's gentle as he aborts the movement. "Shh, relax, Danno. Come on, what's got you changing colors on me?" He asks, licking wet, deliberate strips behind Danny's ears, where the blush is probably reddest. Which only makes Danny blush all the harder. He'd never thought his ears were an erogenous zone. The few times someone besides Steve had played with his ears, he'd just found it irritating. So, why the fuck did it feel so intimate now? 

"Hey," Steve tugs on his ear with his teeth, while the fingers Danny's thoroughly wet rub torturously over his cockhead. 

"Steve, please, please, just let me come," Danny whimpers, petting at the pulse in Steve's wrist, hoping he'll loosen his hand just enough. All it would take is a little bit. Danny's so fucking close.

"Come on, Danny, it's your  _nipples_. How is that a big deal? Plenty of people have seen them, right? You told me you knew how to swim."

"I  _know_ how to s-swim. And it's not the b-body p-part I find embarrass...embarrassing. It's the way you s-say it. And, fuck," Danny bites his lip, arching through a wave of pleasure. 

For some reason, Steve, who happily enjoys chomping on any part of Danny that gets near his teeth, doesn’t like when Danny bites his lip. It has to be a thing because, once again, Steve stops his teasing to free Danny's lip. 

But, holy shit, it's a mistake to meet Steve's eyes right then. 

Because Danny's suspicions are on his face, clear as day.

With a growl, Steve lays siege to his mouth, licking deep and wet, before slipping out just as quickly to find Danny's ear. "You start using this against me, Danno? And you're not going to like the consequences." 

Well, if ever there was a challenge. 

He makes a mental note to test this out. Danny's self-aware enough that he knows he bites his lip a lot. When he's thinking or doing paperwork or trying not to make a derogatory comment about a Disney movie he's watching with Grace. But, he doesn't remember ever getting this kind of reaction from Steve. Never saw any sign that it bothered him. He's fascinated, every time he discovers something new or unexpected about Steve.

But, fuck, he doesn't want to test it now. He wants Steve to forget his...was that a threat? It's a struggle, though, not to bite his lip when Steve's back to thumbing at his dick, all the while choking off Danny's orgasm at the base.

"Steve," he whines, low and plaintive.

"You're not off the hook, Danno. If it's the phrasing, then how would you rather I say it? I want to see you massage your nipples into peaks. Or maybe, I want you to pinch them until they're standing out enough that I could see them through your shirt. Or maybe –"

"No, shut up," Danny says, sporting a burgundy flush. "All of your phrasings are equally terrible. Also, it's not just the words..." He trails off, wondering if it's a weird admission to make. 

"Tell me," Steve orders, tugging sharply at his earlobe with his teeth.

"I actually don't...masturbate often."

"No wonder you're grouchy all the time."

Danny flicks him purposely in the nipple. "Shut up."

But Steve apparently has no qualms having conversations in the middle of sex. Probably because it's never him being kept on the verge of orgasm. Asshole. 

He asks, "How come? You got something against masturbation?" 

"N-no," Danny stutters, because the fucker's still smoothing his fingers over his head. "I just...don't see the point."

Steve must sense there's more to it because, after he bites at Danny's nape and licks up to his hairline, he demands for Danny to, "Explain." 

"I can't get hot without thinking about someone. I can get interested enough in a pretty stranger in a magazine. But, it...feels wrong to masturbate thinking about someone you know in real life. And, if I get interested in someone in real life, I stop being interested in pretty strangers in magazines." 

Oh, blessed day, Steve's grip unwittingly loosens. 

"Are you telling me that during those two months we were together without having sex, you weren't finishing yourself off?" 

Danny tries to surreptitiously slip his hand between Steve's bookending ones on his dick. All he needs is two quick jerks. He's so fucking close – 

But Steve's not sufficiently distracted. His hand retightens while the other one cups around Danny's.

With a sigh at missing his chance, Danny admits, "No. As per usual, you are the exception. No one I've ever dated did things the way you do. Also, I think you need to reevaluate your kinks, because I'm pretty sure you're enjoying the denial of my orgasm."

Steve hums. "So, what does your masturbation frequency have to do with your nipples?"

"The people I dated never asked me to touch myself. And, whenever I decided to jerk off, it wasn't anything special. Usually, because of the low frequency, it didn't take much to achieve orgasm." 

"Well, fuck, if you need a demonstration, a little help figuring out how to do it, all you need to do is ask. I'll gladly direct you," Steve teases, the hand that's cupping Danny's suddenly holding tighter.

Oh, no.

Just from the tone, the shape of Steve's smile that's pressed against the back of the neck, Danny knows better than to go down that road. There's no way Steve wouldn't make it ten times more embarrassing. Danny had been hoping that SuperSEAL would drop the request, or forget it somewhere in the distraction of Danny's admissions, but no dice. 

"I think I can manage," Danny says, shaking off Steve's hand. Even though it feels weird to touch himself, even with his blush still dark, even with his teeth grit over a cringe because he feels stupid for doing it, Danny rubs a thumb over a nipple.

"See? This is tame, Danny. You've done this before to other people. Pinching your own nipples into peaks isn't any different. Nothing to be embarrassed over," Steve licks another stripe up Danny's neck. "Now, I think you need to find something to do with your other hand, before I find something for it to do."

It's the amusement in his voice that suddenly makes Danny suspicious.

Is this Steve acting out? Purposely being more verbal and drawing out the sex, taking a simple thing like a handjob, one of the tamest things you can do, and turning it into a blush-worthy experience. 

Yes, sometimese Danny misses overtures aimed at him. But, occasionally, he does notice things. And much like he knows that there are many times that Steve baits him into a rant, he's pretty sure (like, 70% sure) that this is not the typical Steve McGarrett experience. 

Mostly, because the joke that Steve and Danny were married did not start with Danny. 

Danny has a propensity to rant at anyone who deserves it. There are times where he can be nitpicky and argumentative, and most people steer clear of him. Except Steve. 

Steve engages him in those moments. Purposely riles him up. Despite his well-earned reputation for being direct, to the point, and a man of few words, Steve suddenly bickers like an old maid when he's around Danny. 

He's  _different_ when he's with Danny. Not necessarily more open, because Danny still remembers the effort it took, the  _years_ it took, to hear about Steve's stage fright. He knows how much Steve hates feeling exposed. But, he doesn't try so hard for anyone else's attention. Doesn't need to know every minute detail of other people's lives. 

Also, two months ago, Steve had said he was going to try to communicate more. It's possible that it's spilled into this other arena.

Well, fuck Steve, because Danny's not going to end this blushing. 

He raises his other hand over his head, catching Steve's hair, and pulls him down into a kiss. This time, he licks into Steve's mouth. And, since he's on the offensive, he shifts his hips in small circles, creating friction against Steve's cock. It's with supreme satisfaction that he listens to Steve groan deep in his throat. 

Wonderfully, Steve loosens his grip on Danny's cock. Within a five count of him pumping his dick, Danny hits orgasm. His cum spills over Steve's hand in two ropey bursts. 

Without breaking the kiss, Steve collects the cum and wipes it over Danny's dick. Then, tucks him, wet, back into his briefs and zips up his pants. 

Asshole. 

Biting Steve's lip hard in retribution, Danny breaks the kiss. 

Steve tries to catch his mouth again, but Danny turns around despite Steve's protests and reaches for the man's zipper, because SuperSEAL's still got a raging hard-on. 

As Danny pulls him out of his confines, he's surprised at how big Steve looks in the light of day. He's suddenly not so sure he can manage his original idea, but he's willing to try.

Slowly, Danny ducks his head, telegraphing his movements as he opens his mouth and sucks the head of Steve's cock inside. He keeps his ambitions low, since it's been fifteen years since he gave anyone a blowjob.

Steve doesn't seem to care how long it's been. He hums and pants at the sensations, head thrown back against the tree, needing the support. His hand finds Danny's hair, fingers threading in to clutch tight or rub at Danny's sensitive scalp in little pets. Like he's telling Danny he's doing a good job the way his mouth can't manage – too busy gasping for air. But more than just the sensory input, Steve seems to enjoy the view of Danny taking him in.

Every time Danny glances up, Steve's eyes are open and trained on him, drinking in the sight like it'll be the last time he'll see it.

Danny focuses all his attention on Steve's sensitive cockhead, tracing his tongue along the edge and beneath the perfect mushroom, gently dipping into the groove of his piss-slit, sucking an inch or two more into his mouth and bobbing over the length.

It's only another minute before Danny feels Steve's grip tighten in his hair as he makes an inarticulate sound. Danny doesn't stop sucking Steve in, prepared to swallow Steve's cum.

Understanding his intent, Steve says, voice hoarse, "Don't swallow all of it." 

Danny hums around Steve's cock to indicate he heard, although he's not sure if he's going to listen. It may just be their second time, but he's starting to catch on to certain patterns. He's not entirely sure he wants to see what Steve plans to do.

It's strange to be learning these private things about his longtime friend. And a small part of him worries if he can match SuperSEAL. Danny's always been better at the dating aspect of relationships. He knows how to wine and dine women, how to surprise them with a thoughtful gift, or how to make their day a little easier, a little better. He does it in all his relationships, and particularly with Steve. He knows that a good two-thirds of a successful relationship is honesty and being there for someone. 

But that last third – it's the part that killed his marriage. 

Being a match is important. 

With Steve, they're both law enforcement. And they're partners. Which means all those long nights, the crazy hours, the working weekends – they'll be together. Steve's fantastic with Grace, so there's no worries there. They're both pretty cheap, so it won't be finances that make them argue. There's only two things Danny thinks could really split them. 

Steve's secret missions – because it was one thing to watch his best friend take huge risks for the sake of near-strangers like Jenna or to go chasing after Wo Fat in Tokyo. Danny hadn't had much of a leg to stand on, back then. It was Steve's life. 

But if they’re doing this? There had better be, at the very least, discussions. Because this time, if they go into this as deep as Steve seems to want, there will be ramifications if Steve doesn't make it back. Impacts on Grace, and Danny's not sure how functional he'll be if he has to deal with a grief worse than the one he experienced when he was just mourning his best friend. 

And the second thing – well, it's  _this_. It's not necessarily a surprise that Steve's adventurous. There's some truth to generalizations, otherwise stereotypes wouldn’t exist. For some reason, the Navy has a reputation for having kinky sailors. Steve seems to fit the mold. And, the part of Danny that saw his divorce the day he married Rachel worries that SuperSEAL will get bored. 

At least he's not bored right now.

With a strangled, "Danny," Steve reaches orgasm. 

Danny's still unsure, but he doesn't swallow all of Steve's ejaculate. He doesn't have to wait long to figure out what Steve wants it for. 

SuperSEAL pulls him up and licks into his mouth, tonguing away the cum. As Danny's wondering if cum-sharing or cum-swapping (what even is this? Does it have a name?) is a thing, Steve once again surprises him when he pulls up Danny's shirt and licks the cum over his nipples. 

"Hey!" Danny tries to get away from the idiot, but Steve's arms and hands are no joke. He makes a mental note to ask around, maybe with Chin or Kono, if there's some way to pry these kinds of grips. Or maybe he needs to think of sneaky ways to loosen them. 

"Shh, don't yell. It'll attract the attention of the bird-watchers."

"What bird-watchers?!" Danny's voice goes a little high in his panic. He hadn't considered there might be people wandering around this valley with binoculars. 

Steve's chuckling as he kisses Danny. "Don’t worry, Danno. I've scouted this location. The lip of the summit is high enough that this tree isn't visible from lower altitudes. Someone on a different peak could possibly see us, but there's less trees on the peaks. Less likely anyone searching for wildlife would be up there, spying on us." 

"You're an asshole," Danny says as Steve puts himself away and zips up. "Also,  _why_?" he asks, lifting his shirt away from his chest with one hand while his other tries his pockets for a tissue. 

He finds one, but before he can use it, Steve tugs the shirt over Danny's head, steals the tissue and lets his cargo pants swallow it. "Just let it dry," the idiot says. 

"Give me back my shirt! We are not at the beach. This is not an appropriate location to be shirtless," Danny growls. He doesn't reach for the shirt bunched in Steve's hand, already predicting it would end with a grappling match that he could only lose without playing dirty. 

Steve shakes his head. "We're on a tropical island, Danny. If you're not indoors, no one will look twice at your naked chest."

"No, see, that's not true.  _I_ would look twice. Which means people like me would probably look twice, too." 

"Sounds like I'm going to have to keep you distracted around topless guys. Otherwise, you might give them the wrong idea. And, there are no people like you, Danno. Which is why I need you safe," Steve says, pulling him into the circle of his arms, sideways this time, fitting all of Danny between his ridiculous legs. If it weren't for the hard ground, it'd almost be like sitting sideways, knees bent and legs up, on one of Rachel's fancy Chair-and-a-Halfs. 

There's an unspoken ending to Steve's sentence. It's not hard to guess. "When Joe shows up, you're going to have him take you to Doris," Danny guesses. 

"I'd like to, if you're alright being team lead for a few days?mIt's been a crazy week, but things should settle down. Hopefully, the most excitement Five-0 has in its future is putting together the evidence to take down Jameson." There's malice in his voice for a brief second at the mention of the governor, who will remain in office unless the Hawaii State Legislature decides to impeach her, and if the trial afterwards gets a conviction. But he relaxes as Danny lightly runs his hand through his hair, tugging gently. 

A chirp-filled silence settles between them for a moment, until Steve suddenly nuzzles Danny's neck, prompting. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What do you think? Do I get your stamp of approval, or does the plan need to be revised?" 

Danny gapes at him. "You're asking me?" He checks. 

Frowning, Steve says. "We're partners. I'm leaving you to run Five-0 for a week. Of course, I'm asking you." 

Danny can't get over his disbelief. He continues to stare at Steve until the idiot bites his neck. "Ow!" He swats Steve in the chest. "I'm legitimately surprised. The first time around, you left to hunt down Wo Fat with zero warning. Left me a note to take care of shit while you were away. Didn't tell us where you were going and, any time I called you, it just went to voicemail." 

"Ok, that sounds like something I would do.  I mean, if Wo Fat was still out there, if I was still chasing answers instead of having them handed to me, and if we weren't together? I could see that happening." 

"But you're not going to do it again, right? Because, I swear, if you pull that kind of shit – I'm not a forgiving person, Steven. I've got a soft spot for family, but if you take off on some cockamamie mission without telling me first, the only time you'll see me is when we're at work. I will not speak an extraneous word to you if – "

"Hey,  _hey_ , slow down. It was pretty bad when I left, huh?"

"Yeah, a lot of bad things happened at once. And I handled it. But, fuck, I wanted to shoot you for springing it on me with  _zero_ warning. No details. No way to contact you. Enough was going wrong at that moment in time that the last thing I needed was to be worrying about you. Thinking about where you were, the scenarios I came up with were ten times worse than if you'd, at the very least, spoken to me about it." 

"I can't predict the future," Steve says, "but if I disappear for a mission and all I leave behind is a note then, if I were you, I'd be suspicious. I can understand why I would've wanted to avoid you. If I had to go quick, then I wouldn't have wanted to leave with the memory of us arguing over whether the mission was a good idea. And, I'm not good with goodbyes. As long as I'm not hugging someone at an airport, then the separation feels temporary. But, knowing now how you'd react to just a letter, I wouldn't make that mistake deliberately." 

"Well, fingers crossed. Maybe this time around, Wo Fat will just stay in prison."

"Even if he does, his cronies are out there, ready to do his bidding when he calls. And that's  _when_ , not  _if_ Danny. I hate that you painted a target on your back. If Shelburne was anyone else..." Steve trails off, guilt obvious in his voice.

Taking a page out of Steve's book, he bites the lug's collarbone in reprimand. "You weren't gone long last time. And, the worst of what I remember is dealt with, for the moment."

"Tell me, how confident are you in the memories of what happens next?" Steve asks.

Since they're having this conversation, Danny figures the moods tanked enough that he doesn't feel like an ass for saying, "You know the overlook where you showed me the petroglyphs? Well, we were supposed to find a dead body on the ledge below. Except, it wasn't there this time." 

"What the fuck? Danny, why didn't you say anything?"

"Because it's one of a number of things that have turned out differently, and I don't remember enough about this case to investigate it."

At the revelation, Steve's nods decisively, before announcing, "You're moving in with me." 

Danny blinks at the non sequitur. "Um...first of all, I'm pretty sure you'll need my compliance to make that happen. Which I'd say there's slim to none chance of you getting if you're going to start throwing out dictates. And second, why are you bringing it up now?" 

"How am I supposed to leave you here when you're living in that pathetic rattrap studio? Anyone could break in. You don't have an alarm system. Fuck, you wouldn't even have time to get out of bed, let alone hide, if someone kicked your door down since your place has only one entry and one exit."

"Ok, then how about I stay at your house until you get back?" Danny offers.

But Steve is adamant. "Not good enough. Just because I'm on the island doesn't mean you're safe. I won't know that something's happened to you until it's too late."

"Sure you will. That's what the microchips are for." 

"Microchips are only useful in the case of a kidnapping."

"Which is what Wo Fat would do – have them kidnap and torture me for information."

"Fuck, Danno, what the hell are you suggesting here?" And, to Danny's surprise, Steve is furious. "That it's alright if they kidnap you because we'll find you with the microchips? What about if they put you on a boat or a plane? What if they have you for hours before we can catch up? What if they start cutting off body parts? Or, best case scenario, they beat you up a little just before the cavalry arrives. Are you so confident that you won't have PTSD? That you won't have nightmares of men in black masks firing off your door knob? That you won't relive reaching for your gun but being just a second too slow before someone ties a bag over your head and jabs you with a needle?!"

Steve's panting by the end, the muscles in his arms straining not to crush Danny against his chest. Danny's not sure what to say to that. He starts to apologize, only to get cut off.

"Why, Danny?! What's your issue with moving in with me? What's so terrible that you'd rather take your chances in a disgusting studio that's costing you an arm and a leg?"

Danny can't help but cringe at the thought of explaining, because none of his reasons sound credible in contrast to Steve's doom and gloom ideas of what could happen to him. With a normal person, who wasn't full of repressed anguish over the deaths – real or supposed – of his parents, friends, and comrades, Danny's reasons would make sense. But for Steve...

With a sigh, Danny tries his first reason. "Our relationship's still new. I don't think it's a good idea to move too fast." 

Steve doesn't even need a second to think before he's answering, "The only part that's new is the sex. We were already doing everything else."

"Sexual compatibility is important in a relationship and it can be enough to break one," Danny points out. 

"If you're not convinced we're sexually compatible, fine. I've got a spare bedroom. We can live platonically in the same house," Steve grinds out. He's glaring at Danny with steely determination.

Shit, but Danny's stepped on a landmine. He shouldn't have been so flippant about getting kidnapped. Especially since he, of all people, knows better, having seen the aftermath of when Wo Fat captured Steve. Would a microchip even survive a pulse of electricity?

He's already quite sure this argument will either go Steve's way, or won't end until Steve gets his way. Danny considers just yielding to the inevitability, but while he's here with SuperSEAL already growly, he might as well get some reassurances. 

"I've lived with you before. It drove you nuts. The late-night TV, the long showers, my stuff all over the place –"

"How long did you live with me?" Steve interrupts. 

"Two weeks."

"Let me guess. First week, I treated you like a guest. Second week, you started to piss me off, so I gave you rules. Third week? I started thinking longer term. Finding compromises. Like with the headphones you told me about. This time around, we'd be planning for the long term from the start." 

"Point. But Steve, you have no idea how bad my insomnia can get. There are weeks where I average two hours a night and down energy drinks every few hours, until we're off work."

"What's a medical condition got to do with living together?"

"You're a light sleeper, Steven, and I can't just watch TV some nights."

"We'll find solutions, Danny. It's what people do. And, we're not debating  _if_ you'll move in. We're talking about  _when_. We'll have to jump the hurdles of cohabitation eventually. Might as well jump them now." 

"You're that sure we'll end up together?" Danny asks.

"Not a doubt in my mind," Steve says, right before he kisses him. 

It takes them a while to separate, what with Steve pouring every bit of that determination into it. But once they're far enough to be breathing their own air and Steve's straightening in preparation for the next question, Danny says, "Fine. I'll move in with you." 

It takes a few blinks for Steve to realize Danny's capitulating, but when he does? The sheer relief in the hug Steve pulls him into is breathtaking. 


End file.
